Just One Angel: A New York Christmas Carol
by Diablo Priest
Summary: Eight months after the end of the book/movie, it is Therese and Carol's first Christmas in their big apartment on Madison Avenue. Therese struggles to give Carol the perfect holiday while Carol is depressed and misses Rindy.
1. Chapter 1

Just One Angel: A New York Christmas Carol

by Diablo Priest

Based on the novel _The Price of Salt_ by Claire Morgan (Patricia Highsmith), and the film _Carol_ directed by Todd Haynes, written by Phyllis Nagy.

Eight months after the end of the book/movie, it is Therese and Carol's first Christmas in their big apartment on Madison Avenue. Therese struggles to give Carol the perfect holiday while Carol is depressed and misses Rindy.

This fic blends elements of the book, the movie, and the script.

Rated: M. Contains mild amorous activity (of course), alcohol use (bad for you), tobacco use (really bad for you), and some foul language.

"Not for ourselves alone are we born."

—Cicero

I

Friday, December 18

Therese was hurrying along Madison Avenue at quarter past five. The winter darkness was descending fast upon the city. It was windy and she held the collar of her coat closed with her left hand and clutched her handbag in her right. As she neared her building, she saw Henry the doorman, looking like a Napoleonic officer in his blue uniform, opening the door of a cab for Dr and Mrs Greenberg; no doubt they were heading out for dinner. The cab sped by her and she waved, but the Greenbergs did not notice her.

"Good evening, Miss Belivet," Henry said to Therese, as he opened the ornate door of the building for her.

"Good evening, Henry," Therese said. "Is Mrs Aird home yet?"

"No, I haven't seen her."

The disappointment was written on Therese's face.

"Is there something wrong, Miss Belivet?"

"No," She replied. "I was just expecting her to be home early tonight, that's all. Thank you."

And Therese swept into the lobby on a bitter gust.

Her nose was cold and red, her fingers numb with cold. She had lost her gloves again. It was the third pair already this season. She rubbed all her cold extremities and walked over to the mailboxes. She fumbled for her keys, found the one for the mailbox, and opened it. She grabbed the mail and went to the waiting elevator.

The apartment was dark, Carol was not there. Therese went into the kitchen and tossed the mail on the table. It had been a hectic day at the paper and she had had no lunch. She knew there was nothing in the refrigerator, but she opened it anyways, looked inside and sighed. Then she thought with a surge of hope that put an energetic jaunt in her step, maybe Rindy had sent a Christmas card to Carol. Maybe! A card would cheer Carol.

There was junk mail - holiday fliers from Macy's, Frankenberg's, and Fanny Farmer. Therese tossed them aside, and then she saw an envelope that surely contained a card. Excitedly, she snatched up the envelope. Therese snorted. The card was not from Rindy. It was from Mrs Robichek, her erstwhile friend from Frankenberg's. Therese opened it anyways. It was a pretty card. A sentimental Nativity scene. It sent Therese back many years, to Sister Alicia in California now these - what had it been? Ten years. It seemed much longer.

Therese was suddenly exhausted. She sat down. And then she put her face into her hands and wept.

When she had cried herself out, Therese stood up and went into the living room were a box of Kleenex could be found on an end-table. She blew her nose. Then she went to the large glass doors that opened onto a small balcony. For a long time, she stood looking at the lights of the city and remembering the happy months after she had moved in with Carol.

It had started with the interior decorator, a short, energetic, delicately thin man in his thirties, with the melodious voice. Abby engaged him for Carol. He was in great demand. All the rich elite in the tri-state area wanted Philip Garland to decorate their apartments or homes. And all Abby had to do was call him. Two days later, he was standing in the foyer hugging and kissing Carol and Therese as if they were his long-lost sisters. Abby, Therese soon suspected, knew everybody in the city. Philip's energy was nearly manic, and he loved to talk. To talk to any one and every one. To the carpet men, to the furniture delivery men, to the painters, to the wallpaper hangers, to Carol, to Therese. Therese would watch him with amazement, and whenever he caught her looking at him, he would wink at her like a randy squire. And she would blush like a twelve-year-old girl.

When the apartment was finished, Carol and Therese threw a cocktail party. A sort of housewarming, but without gifts. Despite the different groups of people - Carol's friends and Therese's friends - the party was a great success - everyone got along well. Among those in Carol's group were Stanley McVeigh, Cy and Jeanette Harrison, Max and Clara Tibbett, and Tessie Riordan. Abby came but without the red-head. Among those in Therese's group were Phil McEroy, who came with a Chinese girl; Phil's brother Dannie, who came with Louise; Jack Taft, Ted Grey, and the Kellys. Only Richard did not show. Therese had not sent a formal invitation, but she had made it known to Dannie that Richard could come if he wanted. Carol's friends from Ryder & Lea, the furniture house on Fourth Avenue where she worked, all came as well. Many of Therese's colleagues from the photo department at _The New York Times_ also dropped in.

On warm summer evenings, Carol and Therese would have dinner on their balcony. Sundays, they went for drives in the countryside. Always, Therese had her camera with her, the one Carol had bought for her last Christmas. She took many photographs and had a darkroom set up in one of the apartment's extra rooms where she developed her film and made prints.

In August there was the garden party in the Hamptons, given by a friend of Abby. Abby introduced Therese to a superficially polite Englishman named Covington. He owned an art Gallery specializing in modern art. Therese did not like Covington - his manner was extremely polite - too polite. His manners seemed somehow insincere and cold. But just like that, she had three works in a show of young photographers. Covington had quickly looked through her photographs a week later when Therese brought them to his gallery. "These three," he said pointing to the small pile, "These three, I can sell."

The three pictures were not sold by the end of the show, and Therese had started to cry right in the gallery. Carol had said to her rather coldly, "What's this nonsense?" But Covington, the icy-mannered Englishman, had put his arms around Therese and said, "It's not the end of the world, young lady. Keep clicking that shutter, and in the spring, I know you'll sell something!"

Near the end of September, they spent a weekend in Vermont, at a beautiful country inn that Abby had recommended. The hills blazing with autumn colors. Therese could not help thinking that she was Cinderella. Since April, her life had been filled with such happiness.

But, it was after the trip to Vermont that Therese began to sense a change in Carol. Ever so slight. And insidious. Carol's moods began to darken. It was because of Rindy, Therese knew. The little girl had returned to school early in September, and Carol missed her. Strong, proud Carol began to wither. And Therese felt her world slowly sinking into despair. The fairytale ending that she had been living since April was being devoured like an apple by worms of sorrow. Carol would not talk about it, but Therese knew that each day Carol's heart became heavier. It was bad on Halloween, a Saturday. Carol had come home before Therese. Carol probably did not have to work at all on that Saturday, but she had begun to work more and more to distract her mind from thoughts of Rindy. Shorty before one o'clock, Therese arrived home and heard the end of a conversation that Carol was having on the phone. Therese heard Carol shout something. Silence. Then Therese heard Carol say "Well, that's that." And she heard the receiver slam down violently. Then she heard Carol spit, "Goddamnit!"

Therese knew that Carol had been on the phone with Harge. Always, Harge made some excuse, Therese knew, to keep Carol from seeing Rindy. Harge had a million excuses.

Therese took a deep breath. "Carol, I'm home," she called out from the foyer.

Carol appeared as Therese was hanging up her jacket in the large closet.

As Therese turned from the closet, Carol forced a smile. Then suddenly, sobs were chocking Carol.

The sobs frightened Therese.

"My God, what's wrong?"

"You know," Carol said.

"It's Harge."

Carol nodded.

"Can't you call Fred?" Fred Haymes, Carol's lawyer.

"It wouldn't do any good," Carol said fatalistically.

"No?"

Carol was shaking. "Pour me a drink, will you? Rye."

Therese looked at Carol.

"I know, I know," Carol said, "you think rye depresses me. But I could really use a good strong drink, okay?"

At one end of the dinning room was a bar. Therese poured Carol a glass of rye and water.

That was Halloween.

Thanksgiving was as if Rindy had suddenly died. Carol was not eating and sleeping enough. She was smoking and drinking way too much. Therese was increasingly worried.

And now... Christmas was almost here. Therese pulled the chain on the drapes like the final curtain of a play.

She went to the bar and poured herself a rye, swallowed a shot and dialed Carol's office.

"Hello, Carol Aird speaking," Carol said mellifluously: her business phone-answering voice.

"Hi," Therese said.

"Therese..." A hint of Carol from the summer. A hint of desire.

"You're working late again?"

"I'm with a vendor's rep. right now in fact - I can't talk now."

"I thought -"

Carol had hung up.

Therese returned the phone to the hook on the kitchen wall. Next to it, the intercom. She buzzed Henry.

"Will you call me a cab please, Henry."

"Yes, Miss Belivet."

Therese wanted dinner. Usually, she would walk to Fallières with Carol; it was only five blocks. Tonight, however, it was too cold and windy for a stroll.

[con't]


	2. Chapter 2

II

Monday, December 21

The weekend had been somber; Carol said little and drank too much. For their Sunday drive, Carol and Therese went to New Jersey to visit Abby, who was not at home. They stopped at a diner in Elizabeth and had tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. The coffee was very good, and Carol was less melancholic only because she talked about work. Before they left, however, the mood suddenly sank when an old man came into the diner with his little granddaughter. She was blonde like Rindy.

Carol never recovered from seeing the little girl at the diner, and Monday was perhaps the worst day. Therese got up for work and found Carol sleeping in the chair by the balcony doors. Therese tried to be very quiet, but clumsily dropped the frying pan. She felt as though she had stabbed Carol's dead body. She prayed that Carol had somehow slept through the clamor, but soon Carol appeared in the kitchen.

"Oh, Carol," Therese said. "I'm so sorry. You were sleeping, and I'm a clumsy oaf."

"I have to go to work, anyway," Carol replied. "With your soft heart, you would have let me sleep all day."

Therese stood silently.

"Sure, now you're quiet," Carol said with gallows humor.

Therese did not find it funny.

Carol sat down at the small kitchen table. "You'll be late if you keep staring at me."

Therese resumed making her breakfast.

"Shall I make you some?" she asked Carol, knowing the answer.

"I won't eat it."

Therese felt guilty for having an appetite. As she scrambled two eggs, she heard Carol sigh.

"I don't know if I can go on."

Therese was frightened. Never, she thought would she have heard those words coming from Carol's mouth. She had barley enough sense to turn the flame off, before turning around to face Carol. She had no words. For what seemed an hour, Therese contemplated Carol mutely, until suddenly a flood of tears welled up in her eyes and Carol vanished from her sight.

"Oh, my angel," Carol said, jumping out of her chair and folding the weeping Therese in her arms. "Oh, my angel. How I make you suffer! I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

That morning, Therese made a vow to herself to go and see Harge. She was afraid, not of Harge, but afraid for Carol. She felt that she had to do something. She resorted to a tactic that would not be questioned: she told her boss that she had to see her gynecologist. Her boss gave her no trouble.

On the train to Newark, Therese rehearsed her speech in her head, over and over. The speech that would melt Scrooge's heart and change Harge's mind. In the cab going to Harge's office, Therese realized that she did not even know if Harge was in town; he might have left for the holidays. That is like him, she thought, to take Rindy far away from her mother at Christmas. Thinking of Carol, Therese pressed on. She heard Yuletide music playing in the lobby of the building as she searched the directory for Harge's firm: it occupied the entire sixth floor.

There he was. Harge. Talking to the receptionist as Therese got off the elevator. She saw a surprised look cross his face, and this gave her courage.

"What are you doing here?"

"You know why," Therese replied.

Harge frowned. "You have two minutes," he said, "before security comes." Then he turned to the secretary and told her: "Called Roger, Mary."

"Yes, Mr Aird."

Therese followed Harge into his office. They sat down when he gestured.

"Mr Aird," Therese began. "Harge..."

He waited.

"You're wasting time," he said.

"I've come for Carol. On her behalf, she doesn't know. I wish to ask you to allow her to visit her daughter."

"My daughter is none of your business," he said coldly.

"Yes, but Carol is."

Harge turned his chair toward the window.

"It's Christmas," Therese continued. "A family should be together, even for a little while. You loved Carol once. Think of Christmases past. You must have some warm memories - they don't have to be just memories, you can have th - "

A knock came on the door.

"Yes?" Harge said.

The door opened. It was the security guard.

"False alarm, Roger. You may go." He turned to the window again.

"As you wish, sir." The security guard closed the door.

"I love Carol," Therese said. "I know that once you loved her, I know that she once loved you. She told me so."

Harge turned to face Therese. He looked surprised by her last words.

"It can't be the same," Therese continued, "but the Christmases yet to come, don't have to be filled with bitterness, resentment, and petty jealousy. I have no right to appeal on behalf of Rindy, but I have the right to appeal for Carol. Please, Harge. It would make her so happy to see Rindy. It's the right thing to do. Please, Harge. Remember the true meaning of the season: remember what He said, "'...Love one another, as I have loved you.'"

"We're going out of town," he said softly.

"Just for a while," Therese said. "Please..."

Harge swallowed.

"I'll see what I can do," he said. "I can't promise you anything of course; there are my parents and..." He trailed off. "So, don't say anything."

Therese nodded.

[continued]


	3. Chapter 3

III

Tuesday, December 22

"So," Carol began in a tone that sounded like one of the sisters from St Margaret's. "Jeanette Harrison called me today."

"Oh?" Therese braced herself. Jeanette's husband Cy was the boss at Harge's firm. By Carol's tone, Therese knew that Carol was displeased.

"She told me that Cy saw you leaving Harge's office yesterday." Carol glared at Therese.

Therese was silent.

"Damn you, Therese!" Carol yelled.

Therese jumped like a startled rabbit.

"How could you?"

"I wanted to help," Therese explained. "That's all. I thought I could - "

"Stay out of it!" Carol hissed with an anger that she had never before directed at Therese.

"Oh...K-kay," Therese stuttered meekly.

"Go to dinner," Carol ordered, again in a tone that she had never used before and had not meant to use. She shook her head. "I mean," she took a breath and resumed in a milder voice, "I'm not good company tonight - why don't you go and have a nice meal."

"I - "

"Go!" Carol said vehemently.

"All r-right," Therese said almost in tears.

"Christ," Carol sighed.

Later, Therese returned, coming in quietly. She saw the orange glow of Carol's cigarette in the dark apartment. Carol was sitting in the chair by the balcony doors, as was her habit of late. Silently, Therese crept by, heading for her room.

"Therese," Carol said in almost a whisper.

Therese stopped.

"I'm sorry," Carol said. "I haven't been myself lately. I know that you meant well, darling. Forgive me?" The last two words were also said in a tone that Therese had never heard Carol use before, a pleading tone laced with utter fatigue.

Therese did not know how she would stand more of this. "Come with me to bed, Carol," she said, pleadingly.

"No, I'm too tired."

Therese could hardly hear the words.

"Go to sleep," Therese said softly.

"I can't."

[continued]


	4. Chapter 4

IV

Wednesday, December 23

There was a little relief. When Carol got home from work, Therese was fixing dinner: two plates of creamed spinach topped with an egg over-easy. The kitchen smelled wonderfully of hot butter.

"You must eat something," Therese told Carol.

"Maybe."

"A little. For me?"

"For you," Carol agreed, giving Therese a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. "Abby called and told me a funny story today."

"Oh?"

"Do you remember Tommy Tucker?"

"That scumbag detective who spied on us?"

"Therese!" Carol exclaimed in a scolding, mothering tone.

"What? He is a _scumbag_!"

"It's Christmas," Carol said. "Peace on earth, good will toward... scumbags."

They both laughed. It was the first time Carol had laughed in weeks.

"The story... " Therese said.

"Well, he got his nose broken yesterday."

"How does Abby know that?"

"She saw it in the _Brooklyn Eagle_. Apparently, he was following some guy - you know... Not doing it very well. And the guy confronted Tucker. I'm sure Tucker was supercilious; you remember the way he was when I caught him. And the guy didn't like it, and punched him in the face! There was a police report. Tucker didn't press charges, but had to go to the hospital."

"It couldn't have happened to a nicer scumbag!"

"Therese, Christmas remember?"

"So, I'll send him a present. Some gauze."

Carol laughed again. "I'm glad you like me, because you can be very mean!"

But the gloom returned. Little was said during their meal. Therese knew that Carol was hoping the phone would ring. That Harge would call. Time was running out.

[continued]


	5. Chapter 5

V

Thursday, December 24, Christmas Eve, Day

Therese got up in the morning, but she was not going to work. She had made another vow: Rindy or no Rindy; she, Therese, would try her best to give Carol a wonderful Christmas. Carol would go to work, even on Christmas Eve, but Therese was going to decorate the apartment and surprise Carol when she returned after a half day of work. Therese did her usual: shower, breakfast; and then she got dressed. About that time, Carol came out of her room to begin her day, kissing Therese good-bye.

Rather than going to work, Therese headed for a Christmas tree lot that she knew still had a few trees left. On the way, she killed some time at a diner with a cup of coffee and a cigarette, until the lot opened. A young man waited on her at the lot: a college kid really. About her age. He was overly solicitous and helped her pick a tree; and he seemed sincere when he apologized for the poor selection, but it was her fault of course for putting it off. She should not have waited until the last minute.

"If you turn this side to a wall," the young man explained, "or set this side into a corner, it should look fine; you know, with all the bulbs and stuff. The lights are the most important. No one will notice the flaws once the lights are turned on." He smiled a lot. He's trying to be flirtatious, Therese thought.

"Yes," Therese agreed. "This one seems to be the best."

The young man took her money, and tied the tree up with some string. As she was struggling down the sidewalk, a black man, moved by the spirit of the season, offered to help Therese with the tree. He carried it to the subway station for her, and when she reached into her handbag to give him some money, he smiled at her.

"No, Miss," he said, "that's not necessary - keep it - and merry Christmas!"

"Thank you, merry Christmas!"

When she reached her building, Bob, the doorman during the day, carried the tree up to the apartment for her. Then Therese was off to the Rexall for some tinsel and eggnog, while Bob brought up the box of lights and ornaments from the basement storage locker. She purchased the last package of silver tinsel, but there was no eggnog left in the cooler. However, as she was leaving the store, the dairy van pulled up outside with the blinkers flashing to make a delivery.

"Do you have eggnog on board by any chance?" Therese asked the driver.

"I do, Miss," he replied cheerfully. "I think it's the last batch in the whole city, too." He opened the back of the truck, took out his hand cart and pulled a bottle of cold eggnog from one of the crates. He handed it to Therese with a big smile.

"Oops!" he said with mock effect. "Clumsy me! I dropped this one - merry Christmas, Miss."

"Thank you!" Therese said. "And merry Christmas to you!"

First, Therese turned the radio on and found a station playing Christmas music. Then she poured herself a drink of vodka and orange juice to reinforce her holiday spirit, and humming along to the music, she set about decorating the tree and the apartment. She strung the C-7 lights on the tree first, a multi-colored string of frosted bulbs, white, yellow, blue, green, and red. More than a monochrome set, Therese liked the multi-colored set - she thought it more festive. Next, the glass ornaments, different colors too - resplendent with the glow from the lights. Finally, the tinsel, long sparkling strands that she draped on the branches. The decorating took longer than she thought it would, and she began to worry that she would not finish in time. Then it seemed suddenly done. Therese put Carol's present under the tree and waited. And waited.

Therese began to worry. She expected Carol an hour ago. She smoked a cigarette. Fifteen more minutes... She poured herself another drink and felt guilty for silently cursing Harge on Christmas Eve. Another fifteen minutes. She smoked another cigarette. Another fifteen minutes.

[continued]


	6. Chapter 6

VI

Thursday, December 24, Christmas Eve, Evening

Therese heard the door. She ran to the foyer. It was Carol.

"What's the rush?" Carol asked. "Oh, you were worried about me. I'm sorry, darling." She held up a bag. "I had to get to the store before it closed - I almost forgot your gift - forgive me?"

Therese chuckled.

"Did Harge call?"

And the cheer sank like a rock.

Therese just shook her head.

Carol's head drooped as she started into the apartment.

"Oh my!" she screamed in delight. "You decorated!"

Therese joined her in the living room.

"Oh, it looks lovely, Therese."

"I want to give you the best Christmas ever."

"I know you do!"

"There are my angels, remember?" Therese asked, gesturing to the archway between the kitchen and the dinning room, above which she had hung the string of paper angels that she had cut for Carol last Christmas.

"I do," Carol said, kissing Therese. "You made them. A string of angels from my angel."

"I got eggnog too," Therese announced with pride.

"You remembered all the touches!"

"Except Mistletoe!" Therese shrieked at the sudden realization of her omission. "Damn it! I forgot the mistletoe."

"Never fear," Carol said, pulling a twig of mistletoe from her purse. "I took it from work; it wouldn't be Christmas without a kiss under the mistletoe from my angel."

Therese smiled. She was the happiest that she been in two months. Holding the mistletoe aloft, Carol beckoned Therese. They kissed.

"I'll pour you some eggnog," Therese said when their lips parted.

Carol pulled her back. Held her tightly.

"I don't think I would have survived this season without you, Therese. You saved my life. You are truly my angel flung from space. The best Christmas gift of all."

"I love you," Therese said. "For all the Christmases to come."

To the kitchen Therese went, and poured the eggnog while calling out, "Open your gift, it's under the tree."

As she returned to the living room, the wrapping paper was flying as if Carol were a little girl on Christmas morning. Therese laughed.

"It's a small box, what could it be?" Carol said.

"Well, open it!"

Carol opened the little box and took out a ceramic figurine. It was a miniature lighthouse, about five inches high and hand painted. Carol paused in thought.

"You don't like it," Therese said.

"I do," Carol said. "It brings back memories. My aunt had a set like this when I was a little girl. They were a salt and a pepper shaker." She looked at the top: there was an "S".

"Yes," Therese explained. "I got it at that little antique shop Abby likes. I guess the pepper got lost or broken. That one was by itself; it's the salt shaker."

"I know you," Carol mused. "There's a reason you got this for me. If I had slept for more than three hours this month, I would be able to deduce the meaning."

"It means," Therese declared, "that you are the Light of my life."

"Oh, Therese. How truly thoughtful! I'm sincerely touched. Now open yours, although it will seem rather prosaic now."

Carol got her a pair of gloves to replace those that were lost.

Therese laughed again. It was good to laugh. But at the same time, Therese felt a tinge of sadness. The gloves reminded her of the pair that Sister Alicia had given her so long ago. _Auld Lang Syne_. Old Long Ago. Then it was gone. Because Carol had kissed her.

"Merry Christmas," Carol said.

They snuggled up on the couch, listening to the Christmas carols on the radio.

The city began to grow dark. A light snow began to fall in the tranquil air. Still they cuddled. The Christmas carols continued.

The phone rang.

"I'll get it," Therese announced.

"It's that nitwit Abby," Carol said good-naturedly. "Her timing has always been bad."

Therese picked up the phone by the bar, "Hello... Yes. Just a moment." Therese turned to Carol. "It's Harge."

Carol took the phone from Therese with a trembling hand.

"Hello... Of course... All right... That's fine." She hung up. Turning to Therese:

"He's bringing Rindy up!" Carol exclaimed. "They're at the phone booth on the corner, right now!" Then as she was running to her room: "I have to wrap her present! Oh God, how could I have forgot?"

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Therese shouted. "Like Dickens! Three ghosts must have visited Harge last night!"

"Just one angel!" Carol proclaimed. "Just one angel!"

As Therese waited for Harge and Rindy to arrive, she heard Carol bustling about in her room with the packages and wrapping paper. The doorbell ringing gave Therese a start. And her heart raced a little as she opened the door. Rindy shot passed her crying, "Mommy! Mommy!" Harge laughed at his daughter's excitement.

"Come in, come in," Therese said to Harge. "Let me take your hat and coat."

She hung them up in the closet. Then she gestured, and they walked to the living room, where Rindy was already tearing open her present. The little girl squealed in delight. It was a riding outfit. Rindy was still obsessed with _Hopalong Cassidy_ and horses; the gift was perfect.

"What do you say, Rindy?" Harge chimed in with a fatherly tone.

"Thank you!" Rindy said to Carol.

"This one is from Aunt Therese," Carol said to her daughter, handing her another package.

The girl snatched it eagerly, as Carol winked at Therese. The gift from Therese had been Carol's idea.

"Nerinda," Harge chimed in again, prompting his daughter's good manners.

"Thank you, Aunt Therese," Rindy said.

"You're welcome, sweetie."

They were the boots for the riding outfit.

"They might be too big," Carol explained, "but you'll grow into them soon."

Carol stood up. "Would you like a drink, Harge?"

"Thank you," he said. "A brandy would be nice."

"I'll get it," Therese offered, and she retreated to the bar, leaving the family together.

They sat on the couch, Carol and Harge, like Christmases past. And Rindy started singing along with the tune on the radio, Gene Autry's "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." Therese brought Harge his drink and retreated again as Carol and Harge sang along with their daughter. It was a heart warming scene, and Therese leaned on the bar, smoking a cigarette as she watched it. Happiness was restored to her beloved Carol, and Therese smiled to herself. She was glad to see the flame of life burning in Carol's eyes once more.

Rindy updated Carol on school with a eager report and told her about the trip on which Harge was taking her.

"We'll be gone for New Year's, Carol," he said, "but if you're free on the following Sunday, we can have lunch. I know Rindy would love to tell you all about the trip."

"It's a date," Carol said, punctuated with a big smile.

Then it was time for Rindy to go to bed. She wanted to stay.

"Santa won't come," Carol warned her, "if you don't go to sleep like a good girl." She gave Harge a kiss on the cheek, and a big hug to Rindy. Then she helped Rindy put her coat on, which had been tossed earlier into a near by arm chair.

Therese led father and daughter to the foyer, knowing that Carol, although rejuvenated, could not see Rindy go without tears. After putting on his hat and coat, Harge took Rindy by the hand and led her through the doorway as Therese held the door open. As she was closing it, Harge stopped in the hall.

"Therese," he said.

"Yes." She opened the door.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

Ω

[The End]

Special thanks to Guest (Apr 2), Kittykam99, Love it, CeciliaCresent, Guest (Apr 16) for their comments!

Special thanks to kmi504, SuttonJosephine, Kittykam99, Famaniel, Jacopo, and Mongoose48 for their favorite listings!


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